Meaning in the Darkness
by slightlysmall
Summary: "If the whole universe were without light, darkness would have no meaning." It is only light and dark together that can bring meaning to the most helpless of situations. Unrelated collection. 1. Sirius and Harry 2. Luna and Harry 3. Cho/OC 4. LouisLorcan 5. Molly i and Lily Luna 6. Katie and Charlie 7. Gred and Forge
1. Dear Harry

**History of Magic**: Tell a story entirely through notes, letters, articles, etc. Must include a Slytherin.

**Bonus**: Segment story with date and time headings at least three times.

**House**: Ravenclaw. **Magical Status**: Squib. **Wand**: TBD **PM**: Yes please, with a score breakdown.

Also for: (1) The Songs by Genre challenge with the song "Somewhere" from Romeo and Juliet; and (2) the song fic boot camp with the same song and the prompt Dog.

**Word Coun**t: 489

**Rating**: K

* * *

_Dear Harry_

_30 July 1994, 4:30 p.m._

Dear Harry,

I hope you're doing well this summer. I know you said those are some awful Muggles you used to live with. Remind me of my dear mum, if I'm honest. Wonder if your Muggle family would be Slytherins as well. I don't know if they're ambitious or loyal or anything, but vicious... that seems to be a common Slytherin trait. Except Regulus, I don't know where he went right, though.

Anyway, I just wanted you to know I'm thinking about you. It's your birthday tomorrow. Fourteen already? I remember the day you were born like it was yesterday. James invited me over, Lily yelled at him for letting me see her looking so disheveled... even then you looked like your father.

But I digress. I meant it, you know, when I asked if you wanted to live with me. There are so many if onlys now. I'm glad to be free, certainly, but I wish my name was cleared as well. There is a place for us, Harry, where I can be a proper godfather. I have a house. It's not much, but we could have lived there together.

In hiding like I am just won't cut it for you. You can't hide as well. There are dark things happening, Harry. Everything with Wormtail just confirms that. I wouldn't be surprised if the time is nearing for You-Know-Who to return.

Anyway, I was just writing to say that -

_30 July 1994, 5:15 p.m._

Dear Harry,

Happy birthday! I hope you're doing well this summer. I got your last letter. I can't believe you told those Muggles that this old dog is dangerous! If it keeps you safe, I suppose it's worth it, though. It's nice to receive letters. I never got any in prison. Not that I expected anyone to write, of course. Although Remus might have.

Quidditch world cup this summer! I hope you get the chance to go. You're a brilliant Seeker, Harry. Better on the field than old James was, I dare say. I wish I could go, but even as Padfoot my presence would likely be too obvious, I'm sad to say. Being in hiding like this... it's no picnic. Buckbeak and I are surviving the best we can.

But it's tough, kid. I meant it when I said you could come live with me, you know. We could've found a new way of living, both of us abandoned by your parents - although of course you have it the worse, growing up without them. But you never knew them! I was one of James's best friends for nearly ten -

_30 July 1994, 6:30 p.m._

Dear Harry,

Happy birthday! I hope you have a great one. Not sure when I'll get to see you next, but I'll do what I can to make sure it's soon.

All my love,

Sirius


	2. Expecting an Advocate

**Defense Against the Dark Arts**: Write a story about a character defending another character from something. Optional Quote: "The wisest mind has something yet to learn." - George Santayana.

**Bonus**: _Ravenclaw:_ Write about a character on the light side. _Squib:_ Include information about a canon Dark creature that plays a role in the story.

**House**: Ravenclaw. **Magical Status**: Squib. **Wand**: TBD **PM**: Yes please, with a score breakdown.

Note: dialogue in italics is from the chapter "The Elder Wand" in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.

**Word Count**: 446

**Rating**: K

_Expecting an Advocate_

Harry stood frozen in place, his mind flashing back to third year along the lake. Dementors surrounded him and he couldn't keep his mind straight. Was he lying along the lake with Dementors closing in, or standing on the cusp of the Forbidden Forest as they encircled him.

He had to cast his spell. He had to think of something happy. Fred was gone. Dobby was gone. Dumbledore, Colin Creevey... his mind filled with the fallen, those who fell because of him, and he couldn't bring more than a wisp of hope from his wand. He looked beside him, but Ron and Hermione were struggling the same.

Then, flying past them, came the Patronus of a hare, followed by a boar and a fox.

Luna looked at him encouragingly. "_That's right. That's right, Harry... come on. Think of something happy._"

"_Something happy?_" How could there be something happy here where people kept dying?

"_We're all still here_," she said quietly, as if it were a secret. "_We're still fighting_."

Harry didn't have the chance to thank her, even as he finally succeeded.

* * *

After the battle was over, her presence was a welcome relief. She sat calmly by him and didn't press him for answers. She didn't praise him as savior or blame him for her months of captivity. She was just _there_ and somehow it was exactly what he needed.

Despite her silence, however, he had a question for her. "How could you do it, Luna? How could you create a Patronus in the middle of the battle?"

Luna smiled sweetly. "Dementors feed on despair, Harry. They need unhappy thoughts, and how could I be unhappy? You freed me. I could stand up and move about and breathe the air outside again, so even when I was fighting a battle... Harry, I saw you. I know why you were sad. You had already lost so much. But I had only gained.

"When I saw you, I saw a friend. I'm still not used to having friends. There were too many memories with you to choose just one."

"Luna, you're wiser than your years. I'm sure Ravenclaw would be proud."

"Even the wisest mind has more to learn, Harry. I have a feeling you know what is beneath the hoods of the Dementors."

Harry shuddered even to think about it. "They aren't bodiless, not really. But I can't describe them to you as more than fear personified. If I never have to go near them again, that would be all right with me."

She squeezed his hand. "I don't think you'll have to."

"Hey, Luna?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for, er, everything."

"I'm only returning the favor."


	3. Meaning in the Darkness

**Astronomy**: Write a fic about Astronomy's connection to Magic. Must actually be a story.

**Bonus**: _Ravenclaw_: 12 bonus points will be awarded to any Ravenclaw who enters. 1 more can be earned if the author demonstrates knowledge of astronomy/space in their story. _Squib_: Plus 5 points - if you set your story at night and write about either a Muggle character or a character with Muggle relatives

**House**: Ravenclaw. **Magical Status**: Squib. **Wand**: TBD **PM**: Yes please, with a score breakdown.

**Word Count**: 525

**Rating**: K-plus

* * *

_Meaning in the Darkness_

In the years after the war, Cho Chang avoided the wizarding world. Too many people knew who she was; too many people began conversations by offering condolences for things she wanted to forget. She dated Cedric Diggory and he died in the first moments of war. She dated Michael Corner and he died at the eleventh hour. Cho no longer trusted herself among wizards.

Insomnia crept up on her and refused to leave; she became catatonic, wandering the streets, half-asleep, at midnight. It didn't take long to realize that the observatory was open and she would be more likely to be alone than at the pubs she'd frequented.

Something about the night sky calmed her. At times, she felt so huge, so immeasurably heavy with the weight of her past. Looking at the stars made her feel small and unimportant. It was the best she ever felt.

Cho stared into a telescope, losing herself in the vastness of the universe. Venus was faint on the horizon, but glowing more and more as dawn approached. Mars was much more difficult to find than it had been at Hogwarts, when it grew brighter every day. A planet-sized dot in the sky with infinite importance.

She stargazed for what felt like hours, watching Orion fly across the sky, finally feeling at peace. As morning drew nearer, Cho turned away from the telescope, only to see someone sitting on the floor a few meters away, watching her as intently as she had been watching the stars.

"It's magical, isn't it?" he asked.

She shrugged. "I wouldn't call it magical. In fact, it was the most- oh, never mind. You wouldn't understand."

"You don't think the planets are magical? What is your Zodiac sign?"

"Aries," Cho said without thinking. They studied them in Divination with Trelawney.

"So you were born under the planet Mars," the stranger said. "I take it you've seen a lot of hard times?"

She couldn't help but laugh. "You could say that. I'm Cho. Cho Chang."

"Alex Lee," he said, extending a hand. "It's a pleasure."

"Likewise. You know, I had a professor once who insisted the way the planets moved had everything to do with the way Life - on a grand scale - played out. Maybe there is something magical about it."

"Of course there is."

"What do you mean?"

"I think there's something magical about everything."

"Do you?" she asked.

"I do. Like meeting you. Some call it serendipity or fate. But thinking about the planets and the way they move and influence us... I don't see how you could call it anything else. This, right now, is magical."

The word had made her cringe for more than five years, but in this moment, this Muggle brought the word back to life for her. He took her hand and the sparks that flew from their fingertips rivaled the ones she made the day she got her wand. Outside, they settled into the grass and she leaned against his shoulder as they looked up at the sky unaided. She still didn't know what the future would hold, but Mars was growing dimmer every day.

* * *

A/N: Shoutout to Teddylupin-snape for her wonderful help with this. :)


	4. What I Wanted to Hear

**Charms: **Option C: Write an angsty angsty fic with three of five prompts (I used piano, pages, and inexplicable)

**Bonus: **_Anyone: _Include a charm in the fic _Squib: _10 bonus points: include Wingardium Leviosa, Lumos and Incendio in your story, and at least one of them must be successfully cast by someone in the story.

**House: **Ravenclaw. **Magical Status: **Squib. **Wand: **TBD** PM: **Yes please, with a score breakdown.

Word Count: 636

Rating: T (mentions of suicide)

For Jess, for the Gift-Giving Exchange. Fic 1 of 2.

_What I Wanted to Hear_

* * *

*l*u*m*o*s*

* * *

you were so _bright_, in the beginning,  
illuminating everything with your presence  
and everyone noticed you.

(everyone is **me**, Lorcan.  
just me. isn't that enough?)

you sat down at the piano in the darkness  
beside **me  
**held out your wand to create light.

L  
U  
M  
O  
S

but I didn't need it  
because by your light  
I could see everything important.

"What do you want to hear?"  
you asked  
sweet  
gentle  
your voice soothing and ethereal

you sounded older than your seventeen years

(I sounded older, too, but yours sounded like wisdom  
and mine sounded like pain.)

I wanted to hear my name  
against your lips  
vibrating like the strings of that piano  
and treated with exactly the same  
_reverence  
_as you had when you played.

I wanted to hear your moan  
gently against my ears  
when you would give in to everything  
and finally love me.

"Anything," I said.  
that's all. just anything.

you did. and in your fingers  
against ivory keys  
that tugged at (heart)|s|t|r|i|n|g|s|  
I found joy.

* * *

*w*i*n*g*a*r*d*i*u*m* *l*e*v*i*o*s*a*

* * *

we turned the pages  
of a romance  
like a new piece of sheet music

so much to learn and discover  
so much beauty we could make from it  
so much new notation we had yet to learn

but we could learn  
and we did learn  
((together))

and the noise that came from the piano  
in my parents' sitting room was beautiful  
(like our love)

you started to love me.  
do you remember? how you turned to me  
that day as we sat practicing

and you took my hand in yours  
and you told me you couldn't take it  
and you finally kissed me.

"wingardium leviosa."  
I sent the sheet music scattering  
when I meant it to land in a pile.

I didn't care  
because my heart was flying too  
scattered about the room

on every quaver  
every fermata  
every crescendo.

* * *

*i*n*c*e*n*d*i*o*

* * *

I can't be here anymore.  
I'm sorry.  
I can't do this.

I can't sit at the bench of this piano  
_our _piano  
and think about how you're not here

/beside me/

you never told me why you drowned  
or what brought you to a place  
where you thought it was better

_**[better!]**_

for you  
for _me  
_for **Lysander  
**for _**everyone  
**_[for you to be gone]

and yet you are.

(what drove you away, love?  
I was still there for you.  
I still am right here

-w-a-i-t-i-n-g-

when there is  
nothing  
left  
to wait for.)

I place my fingers along the keys  
and wonder if I ever could have found yours  
that _one key_

that would have let me know  
why you let yourself go like this  
and what I did wrong  
and whether you think  
I deserve your absence.

I open up your book  
your** favourite** songs  
and despite a brain  
that died with you

my fingers  
_still  
_remember

all the _allegro  
_and all the happiness  
written in that international language.

it's the first time I've made music  
without you.  
I hate it.

nothing is beautiful without your light  
to illuminate it.

I take the sheet music  
from where it scattered on the floor  
when you left.

your notes are scribbled in the margins  
so small, so tiny,  
and I never noticed.

/s/a/v/e/m/e/

but I have noticed - too late -  
so this disorganized chaos  
of potential music  
gathers into a pile on the floor

and I pick it up.  
and I go outside.

"incendio."

our music is on fire.

(and it works because I can't hear you anymore.  
now you're just the inexplicable breath  
I still feel against my cheek on autumn midnights)


	5. Of Brussels Sprouts and Emergency Advice

**Potions:** Option A: Your story must have these ingredients: dark, light, fire, aquamarine, purple, eight, trip, water, personality, quill, wave, frame, simmer, stop. Be sure to mix them well and points will be yours!

**Bonus: **_Squib: _Potions is an art which, while magical, is reminiscent of food preparation and the Muggle science of chemistry, things that you might be more familiar with. Include either of these things in a scene in your story - as in, don't just casually mention them, they need to be a proper part of the story to demonstrate your understanding. Minus/plus 10 points.

**House: **Ravenclaw. **Magical Status: **Squib. **Wand: **TBD** PM: **Yes please, with a score breakdown.

Word Count: 1,042

Rating: K-plus

For Jess, for the Gift-Giving Exchange. Fic 2 of 2.

* * *

_Of Brussels Sprouts and Emergency Advice_

Lily Luna Potter dusted off the inevitable ash from her trip through the Floo and stumbled into the kitchen. "Gramma Molly, I have an emergency."

"An emergency?" Her grandmother looked up from her knitting.

"Yes, an emergency."

Molly got up with the slowness old age had brought her and kissed Lily Luna on the forehead. Lily tried her best not to wiggle away under the affection. No one else could help. "What in the world do you need at nine o'clock on a Friday evening? Aren't you normally out?"

"I _was_ out, Gramma. And I just met this man, and um, I-need-you-to-teach-me-how-to-cook," she said, rushing her words together.

"You're going to have to speak up, Lily. My ears aren't what they used to be."

"I sort of, well, I need to learn to cook a gourmet meal. Before, say, tomorrow evening?"

The glint in her grandmother's eyes was punishment enough for her deceit. "And why might that be?"

"I, er, let it slip that I was well known in my family for providing the most decadent meals, and long story short Liam Zabini is coming over tomorrow evening for a dinner I can't make."

Even as she lit the fire under the stove and poured water into a pan, Molly said, "Why didn't you ask your mother?"

Lily Luna gave her a pointed look.

"Right, never mind, then. Wash up. It will be a long night."

"You'll teach me, then? You're the best."

"Not for free," Molly scolded. "You have something to give me in exchange."

"I do?"

"Two things. Your attention, first of all. Secondly, information."

"Information?"

"You'll see. If you're up for it, grab a spare quill and parchment. You should be taking notes." Lily grabbed what she needed and perched herself on a stool beside the stove. "Did you say you could make anything in particular?"

"I told him I would surprise him."

"Smart girl. Probably the easiest fancy meal you can prepare is steak with Brussels sprouts. For the Brussels sprouts, you just boil water - you _can_ boil water, can't you?"

"Yes, Gramma."

"Good. So you boil water and set the Brussels sprouts in to simmer. Add some salt and pepper, simmer for 15 minutes, and you're ready to go."

"I think I can manage that," Lily said as she took notes on the parchment.

"Glad to hear it. I'll show you the steak in a moment, but while it thaws, let's have a chat, shall we?" Molly didn't wait for an answer. She simply pulled up a stool beside her granddaughter and gave her a knowing smile. "To start with, who is Liam Zabini?"

Lily blushed. "_This _is the information you want in exchange for cooking lessons?"

"Yes it is."

Lily considered lying for a moment, but her grandmother knew everything. "Mum won't be very happy if she finds out."

Molly let the news sit between them for a moment, as if she was debating what to say. "Are you seeing him despite that fact or because of it?"

"I'm not sure, really. I mean, it's not like there are just dark and light people in the world. Liam isn't evil. I'm sure of that much. But he's... shady. He doesn't have the kind of personality my parents would be thrilled about. I think that's why I like him. I've been making waves in my family my whole life. Why stop now?"

"Lily Luna, I don't want you getting involved with someone who could hurt you," Molly said sternly. "But if you think he's a decent person, I will trust your judgment."

"That's a first," Lily muttered under her breath, but by the look on her grandmother's face, it hadn't gone unnoticed.

The Brussels sprouts cooked on quietly behind them as Molly studied her granddaughter. "Let me show you something."

"But the food-"

"Cooking isn't so difficult, Lily. It does most of the work itself." She bustled about the kitchen, turning things over here and there. "I know I have it here somewhere. Aha! There it is!"

Molly came back to her stool, a frame in hand. "This was taken on my wedding day. It's a picture of every guest we had. Notice anything strange about it?"

Lily held it up, looking over all the smiling people who waved at her in black and white. "They all look to be about my age."

"That's right. Our parents didn't go to our wedding."

"Why not?"

"They didn't know about it."

"Seriously?"

"My parents didn't approve of getting married at eighteen. But we did it anyway. You aren't as different from your family as you might think." She paused, her eyes getting glassy. "Grab a spoon and come to the stove a minute. We should check on our dinner."

Lily obeyed, and stood beside her grandmother, who was taking the lid off the pot. "Carefully now, go ahead and squeeze one of the sprouts against the side. We want it to be tender, but still crisp. How does it feel?"

"Just about right, I think."

"I think so, too. Let's drain these and finish seasoning them." The way Molly moved in the kitchen seemed so natural. Lily wasn't sure she could ever be so graceful or fluent. "So when did this Zabini boy catch your attention?"

"Eight months ago," Lily admitted. "I've been trying to get him to notice me ever since. But it wasn't until I blurted out the thing about cooking that he gave me a second glance."

"A relationship founded on lies isn't a good relationship to start. But I think you'll find some common ground."

The conversation was starting to make Lily uncomfortable, and she dramatically turned to look at the clock. "I should go. It's late."

"I haven't taught you how to make steak yet. Are you sure?"

Lily smiled, getting up from her stool and heading toward the fireplace. "I'll figure something out. Oh, and Gramma?"

"Yes sweetheart?"

"Just one more piece of advice, if you can spare it."

"I can always spare advice for my grandchildren."

"Should my dress be purple? Or aquamarine?"

Molly smiled. "Purple. I love the way it contrasts with your hair."

Lily smiled and kissed both her grandmother's cheeks before stepping into the fireplace. "Thanks for everything."


	6. Soaring Against the Stars

**Flying**: Option A: Write a fic that's enthusiastic and happy! Stipulation: Your story must be less than 100 words [with no wiggle room], must be related to flying, and MUST tell a story. Any interpretations permitted. But be careful! Curb your enthusiasm and don't go over the word limit but still convey a tale - if you fail at any of these tasks, you might fall off your broom!

**Bonus**: Squib:

"In order to get your broom to hover, you must be **convinced** you can do it safely. You must **believe** in yourself. **Once** you have done that, you must **stand** above it, wand **arm **outstretched, and say '**Up**!'"

Use the bolded words in your professor's instructions in your entry and you will receive 5 points; leave them out and they'll be taken away instead. Note: They don't have to be near each other in the story, but they must appear, and they must be in the order they appear here. After all, there's little use for instructions you can't follow!

**House**: Ravenclaw. **Magical Status**: Squib. **Wand**: TBD **PM**: Yes please, with a score breakdown.

**Word Count**: 98

**Rating**: K

_Soaring Against the Stars_

* * *

Katie didn't wait for flying lessons. The Wednesday of her first week, she took a borrowed broom to the field, convinced she'd be alone to practice.

She didn't expect the silhouette soaring against the stars. An older boy wouldn't want the company of a lowly first-year. But he noticed her anyway.

"You wanna fly?"

"Yeah, but I don't think I'll be good at it."

"I believe in you." Once he said so, she stood looking at her crossed arms, embarrassed. "Give it a try. What's your name?"

"Katie."

"Well, Katie, come on up!"

They flew together for hours.


	7. A Lasting Impression

**Dueling:** I lost a duel with a Hufflepuff and ended up in the hospital wing. I only needed a story with one or two characters. As a loser, I had to use six of the following ten prompts. As a Squib, I had to use all ten. Heat, determined, box, charm, first impression, see, 21st, wall, uneasy silence, fight.

My characters can't be from my house or the house of the person I dueled. I wrote about two Gryffindors.

**House: **Ravenclaw. **Magical Status: **Squib. **Wand: **Pear, Unicorn Hair, 9 inches.** PM: **Yes please, with a score breakdown.

**Word Count**: 1,021

**Rating**: K

**Note: **This could either be considered as disregarding the canon version of the event I am writing about, or it could be considered an additional time when it happens. Whichever floats your boat. But I do realize it isn't the same as the one we see in canon.

_A Lasting Impression_

* * *

For Fred, it was never about the first impression. People and things alike are never what they appear to be at first. Take Leprechaun gold. Or Ludo Bagman. Happy-go-lucky, cheery bloke he was at first. Not bad to talk to. Or gamble with. He and George had a right good time with him at the World Cup, especially after they won their lofty bet.

But their second impression? Not so great. Today at the Hog's Head would be their twenty-first, and Fred wasn't sure their interactions could get any worse. The odds of things going well, however, were such a longshot that not even Fred Weasley would bet on them.

Fred stood with his brother along a stone wall of the dimly lit pub, uneasy silence between them like there had never been before. Four eyes glued to the door, determined to catch a glimpse of the lying Ludo Bagman. "Goblins?" Fred said suddenly. "What are _Goblins_ doing here?"

The silence had made him unsure of how loudly to speak, and the trio of Goblins turned to him and glared. "It's no business of _yours_ what we're doing here," the nearest, and tallest, said. "What are Hogwarts students doing in the Hog's Head? Isn't the Three Broomsticks more your style? Or perhaps Madam Puddifoot's?"

He ignored the jab. "We're here on business."

"Business?" shrieked a second goblin. "You're what? Fourteen?"

"Sixteen," George said defensively, but Fred grabbed his arm. The squeeze was all his twin needed to stay in line. After all, their business had complicated legal ramifications. Gambling underage wasn't nearly as shady was what Ludo Bagman had done to _them_, but it was nothing to go shouting about.

"If your business is none of our business, then certainly our business is none of your business. So you go on with your business and we'll go on with ours, and leave each other out of it, yeah, mates?" Fred talked intentionally fast, but prided himself on his ability to speak without tripping over the words. He left the three Goblins puzzling over his statement and draggled George along by the arm he was still holding.

He could see Ludo Bagman walking in the door. His appearance threw Fred off for a moment. He didn't saunter in with the charisma he'd had during the Quidditch World Cup. In fact, he had pulled a hood up over his face and shuffled as if he didn't want anyone to recognize him. For a man who used to run about in bee-colored clothing, it was obvious something was wrong. Whatever the scum was trying to hide, Fred was determined to bring it to light. "Bagman!" he shouted.

Ludo looked up, his eyes wide with panic once he'd recognized them. He tried to squeeze between them, head down again. "Don't recognize us, Bagman?" George said, standing in his path.

"Oh! Mr. and Mr. Weasley! How good to see you!" Ludo's acting skills, like so much about him, were lacking. "I'd love to stay at chat, but I've got business to attend to. I suppose you don't know what that's like yet, so young still." His beady eyes moved toward the Goblins in the corner.

"Yeah, you're right. You do have business to attend to. Ours. Sit down, Mr. Bagman." The twins had outgrown him in the few months since summer and each grabbed a shoulder, shoving him into a chair.

"Now, by our count, you at least owe us back the nearly forty Galleons we gave you. But since we won our bet, it should be much higher, right, George?"

"Right, Fred."

"Now, now, surely you realize you weren't old enough in the first place. Gambling's a dangerous habit, boys. I would hate to encourage you."

"Didn't seem to mind when we first gave you the money."

"Yes, well… wasn't sure then… didn't exactly know… foolish mistake…"

Ludo's mumbling was interrupted by one of the Goblins. "Giving you trouble, boys?"

"No more than we can handle, thank you," Fred said, standing up and looking down on the creatures.

"He's got some trouble with us, too. So if you're quite done-" the Goblin continued.

"Now, now, everyone. We don't want it to get heated. No need for a fight, don't you think? Completely unnecessary. In fact, I have somewhere I need to be… a mistake to come here at all…"

The twins were between him and the door. "Not so fast, Bagman. We hear you enjoyed our fake wand, yeah?"

Bagman seemed to puzzle over the words, looking for the trick in them. "I did, yes. Sold that for-" He caught himself. "Guess it doesn't matter now. Genius work."

"We have a whole product line. Surely someone as interested in novelties as you are would like a chance for samples." Ludo's lips pursed. "Free of charge, of course, for someone as fine and influential as you are. George?"

George grinned and pulled a Skiving Snackbox from his robes. "Our bestsellers, Bagman. Everyone's loving them." He opened the box.

"Sweets?" Bagman said incredulously. "What does this have to do with your brilliant fake wand?"

"Wizarding Wheezes, the lot. These aren't typical sweets. And we've brought you our latest."

"Granted, it's still in its experimental stage," Fred added. "But surely that won't bother someone like you, who wants a front-row seat at the Next Big Thing."

"Well, naturally. It's safe, I assume?"

"Would we send out a product that wasn't?" Fred asked, hoping Bagman saw his question as rhetorical.

"Naturally not; Arthur Weasley's children through and through." He inspected the rows of sweets, all of them solid blue, rather than the two-colored sweets they normally sold. He had, of course, tested out the product on himself first. But usually attached to a cream half of the sweet to undo the effects. Bagman, who had cheated them out of far more than half of what they deserved, certainly couldn't complain about getting half of something.

The twins waited, lips pressed together in what looked like seriousness but what really a last-ditch effort to hold back smiles. Bagman chose a sweet and began to chew.

It worked like a charm.


End file.
